Ethereal
Copyright© 2026 by SilkStories
Chapter 2
Returning to Earth as Lumina McGregor, I found myself trapped by that designation, unwilling to provoke further alterations that might once again draw Valerion’s attention. I feared his potential report to the Nexus—what repercussions awaited? Banishment to another universe loomed, leaving me exposed and vulnerable to unknown entities.
I entered Apex Engineering, acutely aware that I required suitable professional attire. Recognizing the necessity of human currency for such purchases, I cautiously exercised a minute fraction of my divine influence to procure funds from an automated teller machine. Two thousand dollars precisely materialized in my possession.
I adjusted the stiff straps of my new bag before entering Apex Engineering. Clad in a crisp white blouse and a tailored navy skirt, I smoothed the fabric self-consciously, then forced a polite smile as I approached the reception desk. My high heels clicked sharply against the polished floor with each cautious step, the unfamiliar constraint reminding me of my mortal guise. I presented my identification card to the attendant without hesitation, determined to maintain this carefully constructed facade.
My role, as Sebastian detailed during our conversation, involved assisting a manager on the third floor by coordinating and scheduling appointments. Throughout his explanation, I noticed his gaze lingering conspicuously on my chest, almost as if he were transfixed.
As I stepped from the elevator, my thoughts abruptly locked in place, my entire body stiffening as if struck by an unseen force. There, just ahead, Naomi leaned toward a coworker, engaged in conversation. A smile instinctively touched my human lips.
Her outfit stood in stark contrast to my own. She sported a vibrant floral blouse paired with trousers cut for men, which hugged her form just right. Her curls had been gathered into a neat ponytail, and she completed the look with practical black ankle boots.
This was quintessential Naomi, the island girl who defied conventional femininity. As she rose and approached me, my smile remained steadfast as I continued observing her.
As she neared, her eyes met mine directly. Confusion creased her brow as she passed, yet I kept my focus trained on her unflinchingly.
I listened to her thoughts:
“What the hell is she staring at?”
I snapped my gaze away instantly, casting my eyes downward as I hurried past her toward the manager’s office for my first task.
Approaching Evelyn Bauer’s office, I prepared to push open the door. Then, recalling proper decorum, I paused and knocked lightly instead. Silence followed as I listened intently, pressing my ear against the cool wood grain.
All of a sudden the door swung open, nearly causing me to stumble inside. A fierce-looking woman glared at me and demanded sharply, “What are you doing?” Composing myself, I replied with a polite smile, “Hello, I am Lumina McGregor. I’m here to make your life easier.”
“What?”
“I am your assistant,” I stated, my tone even and professional. She scrutinized me from head to toe before responding flatly, “I see.” With a dismissive glance, she added, “No doubt you were hired for your brains.” The remark threw me off balance; I had assumed my appearance secured the position.
Evelyn rolled her eyes. “I need a coffee,” she said, her tone dripping with impatience. “Can you manage that?” Her request sparked a cascade of thoughts within me—coffee, that ubiquitous elixir employed to soothe frayed nerves and quell mounting stress. I recalled its potent ingredient, caffeine, a substance both revered and reviled for its stimulating effects on the mind.
“I hear caffeine can be quite addictive and unhealthy if consumed too often,” I remarked, meeting her gaze. She shot back with a sharp glare before snapping, “Just fucking do it,” and slammed the door in my face.
I should have probed her thoughts before voicing those facts, perhaps she didn’t care about her wellbeing. This isn’t my concern—I’m here to watch, not preach.
I ventured into the department kitchen and spotted a full coffee pot. Grasping it firmly, I turned to exit when Naomi suddenly appeared in the doorway. My eyes snapped wide at her unexpected presence. “Where are you taking that?” she demanded, gesturing toward the pot clutched in my hand.
Oh no, I was forced to speak with Naomi—this marked our first encounter. I had witnessed her birth on that island, observed her navigating through tangled greenery as she learned survival skills.
“Evelyn wants coffee,” I explained, recounting how she’d brushed off my cautionary note about caffeine. “She told me to just fucking do it.” Naomi’s expression faltered, her eyes widening in disbelief. “She actually said that?” she pressed, seeking confirmation. I gave a terse nod. Naomi muttered bitterly, adding, “What a total bitch.”
That term once more resounded, a label defined in lexicons as a pejorative denoting disdainful contempt.
Naomi marched to the cabinet, yanking out a mug. “Here, fill her a cup and ditch the pot—I’m desperate for one,” she barked as my jaw dropped. “Since when do you drink coffee?” I blurted, stunned.
She eyed me curiously, probably wondering why I’d mentioned her coffee habit like we were old friends. As I poured the steaming brew into the mug she offered, my brain finally caught up with my careless slip. Just before I could make my escape, she added with a wry twist of her lips, “My name’s Naomi by the way.”
With a polite smile and a nod, I exited the kitchen, carrying Evelyn’s freshly poured coffee.
The remaining hours of that Earth day unfolded with unwavering precision. At Evelyn’s direction, I dispatched letters to their destinations and relayed messages to colleagues without hesitation. Each task was executed flawlessly, leaving no room for error. A quiet sense of fulfillment settled within me as I carried out my duties with exacting care.
I observed as people donned their jackets and filed out for the day. Standing in Evelyn’s office, I listened intently as she dismissed me with a wave. “You may go,” she stated matter-of-factly, adding, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Tomorrow? They wanted me to come tomorrow and do the same thing over again? I quickly consulted the employment terms stored in my vast database of human knowledge. The records confirmed that this was indeed a recurring arrangement.
As I stepped outside the building, I became acutely aware that the day’s exertions had drained this physical form. A dull throb pulsed through my head, urging me to seek refuge where I might revert to my true essence.
“You never told me your name,” Naomi’s voice suddenly cut through the stillness as she emerged from around a corner. I spun around, startled by her unexpected appearance.
“You never asked,” I replied, my words measured. Naomi’s expression shifted, a flicker of annoyance crossing her features. “It’s usually customary,” she countered sharply, “if someone tells you their name, that you offer yours in return.”
I consulted my internal repository of human social customs and discovered that Naomi was correct; reciprocal self-introduction was standard practice.
“Lumina” I replied.
“It’s nice to meet you Lumina” Naomi said, her voice softening as she uttered my name. My pulse quickened unexpectedly at the sound of it on her lips, a warmth spreading through me.
“Thank you”
Once more in my spectral state, I watched as Naomi conversed with her parents at the dinner table. “I encountered a most unusual woman today,” she remarked, her words hanging in the air as Ian and Aisha listened closely.
“Oh? What was stranger about her?” Aisha said, tilting her head. Naomi paused before answering. “I don’t know ... just the way she spoke. It seemed odd—as if she were from another planet.”
Apparently, simply inhabiting a human body did not suffice to pass convincingly among them. It appeared I needed to master the intricacies of their speech patterns as well.
Aisha posed a question that momentarily took Naomi aback. “Was she white?” Ian interjected, his brow furrowed in mild confusion. “What’s that got to do with it?” Aisha offered a playful smirk as she reached over and gently pinched his cheek. “Nothing, baby,” she reassured him before continuing with a wry tone. “White people are weird.” Naomi couldn’t suppress a light chuckle at the remark. “Well,” she added, her voice tinged with amusement, “this one definitely was.”
I stepped into work and boarded the elevator, my blouse pulled taut across my chest, emphasizing every curve. “Maybe they won’t even notice,” I mused silently as several colleagues—men and women alike—joined me inside. I caught glimpses of knowing smiles exchanged among the men, acknowledging my appearance with subtle nods. Maintaining proper decorum, I returned their polite smiles without engaging further.
I sensed my attempt at blending in had fallen short, my efforts to remain unnoticed rendered futile long before. I harbored doubts that any changes I might make would draw Valerion’s attention, so I dismissed further contemplation on the matter.
I glanced sideways toward the male beside me. His gaze was fixed on my breasts, lingering with unapologetic interest. When he realized I’d noticed, a flush crept up his neck and he quickly averted his eyes. Meanwhile, the woman standing nearby shot me a look of disdain. I focused my awareness inward, reaching into her thoughts.
“Fucking slut!”
I recalled the dictionary definition—a promiscuous woman, a female who engages in numerous casual sexual encounters or exhibits sexually provocative behavior. Often used as a derogatory term, I thought with bitter irony. “How dare you!” I snapped at her as she looked at me wide-eyed. The doors opened and she rushed out.
As I stepped out onto my floor, a sudden realization struck me—the peculiar emissions from this form had permeated the elevator, leaving an unmistakable discomfort in their wake. Lingering for a brief moment at the threshold, I cast a backward glance through the closing doors; every face within remained deliberately turned away, avoiding my gaze entirely.
As I prepared to knock on her door, Evelyn approached with purposeful strides. “Get your notebook and meet me in the conference room on the fifth floor,” she commanded as she passed, leaving me momentarily stunned. My notebook?
Ah, the modest notebook with its untouched pages—waiting to be inscribed with pen strokes that would one day capture cherished moments and lived experiences. Why did she insist on me bringing that along?
In the conference room, several male and females were seated around an oval table. As one of the males began speaking, I held my pen in one hand and my notepad in the other. Evelyn turned toward me, her eyes signaling me to take notes.
I began scribbling notes, letting my hand glide smoothly across the page. Each deliberate stroke left precise lines as I moved the pen back and forth, finding a strange satisfaction in the act. This is fun, I mused silently.
I paused until Evelyn continued signaling me to keep writing, then resumed as directed. Growing slightly bored, I shifted my gaze to the man speaking and began tuning into his unspoken thoughts. To my surprise, his internal musings starkly contrasted with the words he actually voiced aloud.
“Look at you, Evelyn,” his inner voice taunted, “One of these days I’m going to wipe that smug smile right off your face. I can feel it coming.”
Interesting, I thought to myself. He clearly harbored animosity toward Evelyn; his inner disdain was palpable. Intrigued by the dissonance between his spoken words and private sentiments, I leaned in closer to listen.
“Sebastian will witness your incompetence when I submit that letter under your name—you won’t see it coming.”
After the meeting concluded, Evelyn guided me firmly to her office. “Hand over your notes,” she demanded brusquely, then added with a cutting edge, “I need to know exactly what that piece of shit Mark is planning.” I gave a curt nod and passed her my notebook.
She looked at my notes in horror:
“What the fuck is this?”
My brows furrowed, “What’s wrong?” I asked.
“You’ve just scribbled on the page, where are the notes of what Mark had said?”
“You told me to take notes, and that’s what I did?” I said honestly. “Either you’re fucking with me or you’re the dumbest bitch I’ve ever laid eyes on—get the hell out!” she roared.
“Shall I come back later?” I asked. She shot me a fierce glare. “No, you’re fired!” she snapped harshly. Fired? The word echoed in my mind as I rapidly scanned through my internal database, realizing this had absolutely nothing to do with the essence of ignition.
The realization dawned on me with jarring clarity—the word “fired” was not about combustion, but a brutal severing of my role. That she preferred I not return to assist her anymore permanently.
“He wants to wipe that smug smile off your face,” I said plainly. Her brow knotted in confusion as she pressed, “What?” I continued, “Mark—you wanted to know what he was thinking. He intends to submit a letter under your name to demonstrate your incompetence to Sebastian.”
She stared at me for a long moment, her eyes searching the space around her as though lost in deep contemplation. Abruptly, she reached for the phone. “Susan?” she said sharply into the receiver. “Check your outbox—have you got a letter from me?” A pause followed as she listened intently; her eyes widened slightly before she continued, “Do not send that letter under any circumstances—I’m coming down to review it now.” With that, she firmly returned the receiver to its cradle.
Evelyn rose abruptly, her command sharp and concise. “Don’t move.” With that directive still hanging in the air, she strode purposefully from the room. I remained anchored in the exact spot where she’d left me, motionless as seconds stretched into minutes. When the door finally creaked open again and her figure reappeared, I was still standing precisely where she had instructed. Her gaze swept over me briefly before she delivered another terse order. “Sit.” Without hesitation, I lowered myself into the chair opposite her desk.
She held a letter, “This would have caused me a great deal of trouble—potentially even cost me my job with the company. The signature was forged, and quite convincingly at that. This is Mark’s doing, and for that I will expose him—but...”
“How the fuck did you know?”
I met her questioning gaze, my mind racing as I weighed my options. Revealing the unvarnished truth felt absurd, yet sometimes embracing the unbelievable could disarm suspicion.
“I read his mind.”
Her eyes narrowed, “Alright, I see. You’re worried about losing your job. If you continue helping me decipher what’s unfolding around me, I’ll ensure your position remains secure.”
As I exited Evelyn’s office, Naomi emerged unexpectedly. “McGregor?” she asked sharply, her tone edged with hostility. She repeated more insistently, “You’re named McGregor?” I hesitated, replying uncertainly, “Yeeesss?” unsure if that was the right response.
“How is it possible that you share my surname? Are you Irish?” she demanded, clearly expecting an immediate reply. “It’s not unusual for people to share names,” I responded, feeling rather pleased with my simple explanation.
“I know,” she continued, her tone laced with accusation, “but it’s strange that we share the same last name working here—it doesn’t sit right with me. There’s something ... off about you, Lumina.” A slight pause followed as I considered her words. “Off?” I repeated slowly, weighing the implication behind that single descriptor.
“If it offends you Naomi, I can change it” I offered, watching as her expression shifted to bewildered surprise. She turned away abruptly and strode off, glancing back over her shoulder with that same furrowed brow fixed upon me.
I had observed that people rarely changed their names unless entering into lasting unions. Later, I encountered Naomi preparing coffee in the kitchen; attempting to ease the tension, I remarked, “Wasn’t it amusing how I offered to change my name?” Although I forced a laugh, she still regarded me with a puzzled expression.
“Where are you from, Lumina?” Naomi pressed. I hesitated before replying, “Europe?” I offered the vaguest origin I could muster—a place that might plausibly explain my name’s roots. Naomi tilted her head, her tone sharpening with skepticism. “Is that a question?” she asked pointedly.
She turned to face me, her gaze locking onto mine. “I don’t know what it is, Lumina,” she said slowly, “but something strange is happening—and I’ve seen plenty of strange things in my life.” Her words carried an unspoken weight, and I sensed the truth behind them as clearly as if she had whispered it directly into my thoughts.
In that charged moment, I glimpsed her inner spirit—the wild, untamed essence I’d secretly cherished all this time. My vision blurred as emotion swelled within me, and without a second thought I murmured, “My dear Naomi.”
“What?” she exclaimed, startled.
Naomi recoiled almost imperceptibly, her body stiffening as unease rippled through her. I felt the subtle shift in her demeanor, the guarded tension that settled over her like a sudden chill. And then, softly at first, I heard her thoughts whispering—a faint murmur of confusion and dawning recognition.
“Why does that sound familiar? Who is she?”
“Who are you?” she demanded, her voice tight with apprehension. “Just someone who wants to be a friend,” I replied, the words tumbling out earnestly. In that raw moment, pretense fell away—I could never reveal my true nature, yet perhaps I could offer solace, becoming a confidant when she needed one most.
I observed her as she moved past me, turning to follow her departure from the kitchen. A soft sigh escaped my lips. An unusual sensation surged through my body; my biological form reacted to neural impulses firing within my constructed mind.
Glancing around hastily, I shifted back into my ethereal state and withdrew to my distant realm beyond Earth—there, I lingered alone, reflecting upon the day’s unfolding events.
I maintained my vigil around the company, tuning into Mark’s conversations. I listened intently as he discovered that the letter intended to incriminate Evelyn had failed to reach its destination. His fury became palpable—an intense, seething anger that coursed through his every word. I sensed the mounting threat in his demeanor, a dangerous resolve that signaled he might lash out against Evelyn in various ways.
As I peered into Evelyn’s office, I noticed her asking around in the department about my whereabouts. It struck me then that the workday hadn’t truly concluded when I had shifted forms earlier, and now she was actively searching for me.
I reformed inside the restroom stall as Lumina McGregor once again. Stepping out, I caught my reflection in the mirror—and then noticed a male coworker standing beside me, his expression curious and questioning. With a simple greeting, I exited the room.
Walking into Evelyn’s office, I felt her sharp gaze land on me. “Where have you been?” she asked, her tone edged with impatience. I paused briefly before answering, choosing my words carefully. “Be careful of Mark—he isn’t finished with you; he could be dangerous.” My warning hung in the air as I met her questioning stare.
“What have you heard?” she demanded sharply, her gaze narrowing with suspicion. I paused deliberately before responding, my tone measured and grave. “Mark is questioning why the letter never reached its destination—and he’s far from pleased,” I explained. “For now, that’s all I know.”
She gave a curt nod, “Understood, but be cautious about how you gather information—I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you,” she remarked with unmistakable sincerity. Her unexpected kindness warmed me deeply, and I murmured a soft, “Thank you, that’s so human of you,” as I stepped out of her office.
As the day drew to a close, I lingered outside the building, eager to catch sight of Naomi as she emerged through the glass doors. When she finally appeared, she halted abruptly upon noticing me. Her gaze flickered away as she deliberately steered clear of my path while heading home. Determined not to let her slip away, I hastened my pace and fell into step beside her, offering a warm smile while holding her gaze.
“Why are you following me?” she asked, her voice tinged with unease. I paused for a moment to consider my response.
“I want to be your friend, Naomi,” I said softly as she averted her gaze, her eyes darting away. “Why?” she asked, her voice tight with apprehension.
I pondered my response carefully, determined to avoid revealing too much. Opting for sincerity, I replied softly, “Because you are special—someone extraordinary. I’ve heard remarkable things about you, and I truly believe we could be great friends.”
“What have you heard about me?” she asked, her voice edged with wariness. I paused, then offered quietly, “That you’re known as ‘the jungle girl’—the one who slid down a mall banister to stop a thief. I saw the video.”
“That was a long time ago,” she said dismissively, turning to walk away. “See you tomorrow,” I called after her. She paused briefly before continuing on without looking back.
I released a weary sigh and turned towards the alleyway, scanning my surroundings as I prepared to shift into my ethereal state. Just as I began the transformation, a sudden noise made me spin around. A man wearing a hooded jacket stood there, his face obscured in shadow. “You’re money!” he declared sharply.
“My money?” I echoed, my tone steady and unwavering. As the stranger revealed a gleaming blade from his jacket, its edge catching the dim light, I regarded him with detached curiosity rather than alarm. My focus remained fixed on the weapon now directed at me, wondering if this was merely an attempt to unsettle me.
I weighed the risks of employing my abilities, mindful of the potential anomalies that might draw unwanted attention from the Nexus. In that moment of deliberation, Naomi launched herself onto the assailant’s back, her arms locking around his throat in a fierce hold.
The assailant flailed wildly before crashing to the ground, and I watched in stunned admiration as Naomi subdued him with her trademark resolve. Once he lay motionless, she released her grip and rose to stand tall.
A grin spread across my lips as I recalled the many times I’d witnessed her execute that precise maneuver. It was just as devastatingly efficient in this moment as it had been in all those prior instances.
Naomi approached me, placing her hands firmly on my shoulders. I glanced down at her touch as she asked, “Are you alright?” I gave a quick nod before meeting her gaze again. “Thank you,” I added, relief washing over me that I hadn’t needed to reveal my powers.